


Interview with a psychopath

by Alex_of_Asgaard



Category: Outlast (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, False Pretenses, Forced, Implied Voyeurism, NSFW, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Triggers, expirementation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2020-02-07 07:18:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18615820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alex_of_Asgaard/pseuds/Alex_of_Asgaard
Summary: Reader is a young, up in coming journalist who bites off more then she can chew





	Interview with a psychopath

starting.

That was always the hardest part.

You mused to yourself about this as you stared blankly at the dim monitor in front of you. It was dim not from lack of light, but more from a lack of substance. That is to say, it was blank. A blank word document, taunting you with the blankness that continued to spew out from the white void. You knew why it was blank, as well, which only served to irritate you more. It was hard to write about something you tried to abstain from encountering, namely, gruesome murder, but in light of recent events, it seemed vocationally advantageous to jump on this story.

What events?

Why, the capture of a famous serial killer.

Obviously.

You shivered, forcing a deep breath, as sudden images flashed through your head. You'd done a fair amount of research thus far and thoroughly regretted it. There was a reason he was famous and it was the publics inherit fascination with gore, and this man displayed it in spades. "Vicious, brutal, grotesque" were all words that entered your mind, though none where poignant enough to stick. Every half-assed, buzzfeed news knock-off had already done their stories on the man and you knew you needed to set yourself apart from them all some how.

You didn't like the idea that you had, but it seemed to be the only thing you could do that hadn't been done already.

You closed your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose in an attempt to soothe the nauseous ache in your stomach. You'd already pulled a few strings to insure you'd be the first to interview him, not that many other journalists were scrambling to get their hands on the position. One would think there would be more competition then there was, but most seemed to be content with just reporting on the interview rather than conducting it themselves.

After a few more minutes of staring at your screen, you prepared yourself, physically and mentally, as best you could, before departing for mount massive.

It didn't seem to take very long to arrive but a glance at the clock on your dash assured you that you were wrong. You lingered perhaps a bit too long in your vehicle, trying to repress the awful feeling in the pit of your stomach. It wasn't just about who you were here to see, but the place itself seemed... Upsetting to you. It was an asylum after all. One for violent offenders at that. Before you could quite finish your thoughts, you were interrupted but a sudden tap at your window. It was an armed security guard. You were taken aback for a second but quickly realized that it was quite necessary for the situation. You rolled down your window and began to introduce yourself, but he seemed to know who you were and waved you in after a quick once over for weapons. 

the click of heels on the blindingly sterile floor seemed deafening as you were escorted through the lobby by another man who knew your name before you had the chance to introduce yourself. With every step forward you felt blood rushing through your ears, a growing sense of dread sludging through your abdomen like liquid lead. 

After what seemed like far too long of a walk, you found yourself shaking hands with someone who appeared to be a doctor. He smiled widely at you, thanking you for coming all this way.

"I should thank you, really. It's quite the opportunity, interviewing someone like Mr Gluskin."

"hmm, indeed. Speaking of," he paused, his demeanor becoming entirely professional, "there are, of course, some safety precautions that need to be met."

"of course."

"your interview will be monitored the entire way through, both by camera and through a two way mirror, by a team of medical professionals. And armed security personnel will be stationed outside of the door. You'll be required-"

"outside?" You interjected, "I assumed they would be... In there... With me?" 

"Well, So far, Mr Gluskin has been... Reluctant to discuss personal matters in the presence of anyone he views as an authority figure, at least to any meaningful degree. That is one of the reasons we accepted an interviewer of your... Particular physicality."

"I... Suppose that makes sense." You admitted, though you still weren't entirely comfortable with it. It all struck you as very... Odd. Though maybe that was just inherit in the nature of the situation. It was odd to willing walk into a room with a murderer. It was even more so to sit down at a table with him and discuss his personal views on the situation at hand. "But you will step in if he gets aggressive?"

"of course! What type of operation do you think we're running here?" He said, his smile returning as he worked on unlocking the thick steel door in front of him. "As I was saying, you will be required to remain out of arms reach of the patient at all times, and are advised not to discuss personal information concerning yourself, family members, or place of residence, though, I'm sure you don't need to be told that."

you nodded affirmatively 

as you both entered your eyes immediately fell on the only other inhabitant of the small, sterile room. In fact, other than the table he sat at —and was chained to, he was the only thing decorating the room. He was an older man, early to mid forties, you imagined, in a typical orange jumpsuit. You had thought the wide smile of the Doctor was a bit unnerving at first, but Mr Gluskins grin made it look positively welcoming in comparison. He had his cuffed hands folded politely on the table. 

"Doctor Smith! It really is wonderful to see you again." He beamed "and who, might I ask, is your friend? A little young for you I think, and far too good looking." His hand moved as much as could be allowed by the steel chain attached to it, offering a handshake which you didn't have to be told not to accept. "Edward Gluskin. Call me Eddie."

the Doctor introduced you, explained why you were here, and advised Eddie to be on his best behavior, to which Eddie eagerly agreed

"I just wanna ask you a few questions, Mr-...Eddie"

"oh of course, of course! I would be all too happy to talk with you, darling. I am an open book." He leaned forward on his elbows, the expression on his face almost deceptively sincere. 

with that, the doctor left, letting the door click locked behind him, which instantly struck you as wrong, but you ignored it, the assurance of your safety playing back in your mind as if you'd be using it as evidence during your lawsuit of this God forsaken place. 

You took a seat directly in front of Gluskin, pulling the chair back a bit, so that you weren't so close, and pressed record on the small tape player you'd produced from your bag.

"How are you doing today, Eddie?" It was a poor icebreaker, you think, but after meeting him, you weren't entirely sure how to go about this.

"Oh, I'm wonderful after seeing you. Do you come here often? Oh, look at me, of course you don't. I-"

"do you... Know why you're here, Eddie..?"

he paused, seemingly taken aback. He seemed to consider it for a second.

"no... I'm not really sure I do. I believe it has something to do with those poor women they keep asking me about."

"you mean Annabel Garcia, and Tayler McAlistar, and Wendy Brodrick, and-"

"yes. Them." He interrupted curtly, his smile faltering into a scowl, before clearing his throat anxiously. "I'm sorry, its only that I've been asked about them endlessly since I arrived and it's all so very tiring. I barely even knew those women, and now that they're dead they're all anyone cares about." His tone was chillingly bored. No remorse in the slightest.

"well, you do know how they died, Eddie?"

"of course I do. They died like whores. Which is what they were. Fitting, wouldn't you say? Ripped open for all the world to see for so willingly giving themselves away. A funny sort of irony this world has, hmm?" 

his tone seemed harsher this time, his teeth gritting with the word "whores"

"you mean that you have?"

"What? No!" He seem shocked by the idea "I would never! I didn't hurt any of those poor, filthy, little sluts..."

"of course not. But you did have sex with them?"

he stiffened, a twinge of what might be embarrassment flashing across his face.

"Yes."

"but you didn't kill them?"

"no."

was he in denial? or was he just a good lier? You honestly weren't sure.

"alright. What about your family life? How-"

his face lit up again

"Oh yes! I could talk about my family for hours. I had a wonderful home life growing up."

 "Really?"

"yes. I grew up with two loving parents and an older brother named Wally. My father was a strict, but kind man, the son of a farmer from just outside of our own little hamlet. He served his country dutifully in the second big war, though, I wasn't born yet, so I can only imagine from what my mother told me...And my mother"

a blissful smile fell across his face

"My mother... She was a pearl. A treasure. The picture of a perfect woman. Caring and supporting, but refined and witty. She was a light in a dark world. She was the only thing that kept him away from me when he... Ahh, but, of course, I'm confused again... I'm not really sure what I'm....that is to say, I..."

His gaze shifted to something distant, his features blank and unreadable. you recognized elements of his story from an old television show, so you figured only fragments of it held any truth. He blinked, his face contorting into what appeared to be pain, before letting out a sharp breath as if he didn't realize he'd been holding it in.

"well, I suppose, this wasn't a very good topic afterall" his eyes refocused on you, a charming smile forcing itself across his lips "perhaps we could talk about something else? Like yourself, for instance?"

you shook your head dismissively, determined to find some sort of through line for this interview.

"No, Mr Gluskin, I'm here to-"

"Eddie." He snapped, standing up, his chair squealing audibly against the floor as he did so "I told you. To call me. Eddie."

You immediately stepped backwards, your hand snatching up the tape recorder as you left the table, waiting for the security guards just outside the door to come in and subdue the now aggressive criminal in front of you.

the door stood stoically still as if it was just a pattern in the wall

"Eddie, I don't think I'll be comfortable continuing this interview."

"What? No, no, no, I'm not finished talking with you yet. Please, just sit down, I'll be calm."

You began to head for the door, Eddie pleading and cursing at you to return to the table. As your hand reached for the door you decided whatever you'd recorded thus far was good enough and-

locked.

its still locked.

you jingled the handle again, hoping to get the attention of the men on the other side. When that didn't work you turned your attention to the large mirror that had been at your back the whole interview. 

"Hello? I'm done here. It's over. the interview is over."

"No, it's not! I'm still talking to you!" You could hear him yank against the suddenly very thin chains holding him to the table "don't ignore me, you whore!"

you approached the mirror, banging your fist against the glass, trying to look past your own reflection and towards the "team of medical professionals" you knew had to be just beyond this wall.

"please, please let me out of here, he's-"

you hear the chain snap. 

you turn, your back pressed firmly against unyielding glass.

"...E-Eddie... I-Im sorry, we... We can continue the interview i-if you-"

"you're so beautiful."

You froze, your blood running cold. he's staring at you like a wild animal 

he began walking towards you, closing the gap between you in just a few long strides. He's so much taller than you. He's got you pinned up against the mirror, hands on either side of your body, his thumbs slipping under your shirt to trace circles on your waist. You can feel his breath on your neck, near your ear.

"don't make me hurt you, darling."

a sob catches in your throat, your hand colliding desperately with the glass behind you in a last ditch effort go attract the attention of the bastards behind it.

unfortunately, the same response follows. Nothing. Nothing except hands traveling further up your shirt, and a mouth falling on your neck. You try not to cry as he moans into your skin, obviously starved for human contact. He bucks into you, his pelvis grinding against your stomach. His hands grip your sides, hoisting you up, pressing you harder into the glass, his hands finding your thighs and guiding you to wrap your legs around his waist. 

"What a good girl. So beautiful. So... Soft..." He groaned into your neck, his hands pulling you against him as he ground his hips into you "you're going to be...so...beautiful."

you pressed your hands against his broad chest, trying weakly to push him away.

"Please. Please stop."

"shhh" His teeth grazed against your skin, trailing up to your ear.  "you don't have to be nervous, darling. I'll be gentle. I promise." You felt his hands hook the hem of your pants, slowly inching them down, his mouth brushing softly against your own as if he was showing you how "gentle" he could be. You were suddenly the slightest bit thankful for his erratic personality, seeing how violently angry he was just moments ago.

He deepened the kiss, his tongue forcing its way past your lips and into your mouth. You let out a unintentional whimper, earning an appreciative growl from your assailant, before he pulled away, finally allowing you to catch your breath. One hand tugged insistently against your shirt.

"off. Now."

you brought shaky hands up to the hem of your shirt, pulling it up over your head hesitantly. He sighed, his hands reaching up you run across your exposed skin, forcing you tighten the grip of your legs around his waist. He groaned, your ass unintentionally grinding against him. 

"Fuck... Impatient, aren't we, darling...?"

his hands returned to your thighs, forcing your legs up and repositioning them on his shoulders, slipping your pants the rest of the way off and discarding them in the process. He leaned forward to kiss you again, your legs following painfully as he did so.   You felt the absence of one of his hands, followed shortly by the sound of rustling fabric. he pulled back just in time for an unimpeded sob to tumble from your throat. You heard him hush you, fingers brushing softly against your cheek. He caught your jaw, tilting your head up.

"Look at me."

you obeyed, red, puffy eyes forcing themselves open.

his hand ran appreciatively across your cheek, mocking some reassuring gesture. Through soft whispers proclaiming his love, you felt the head of his cock press against your entrance. Your fingers griped, white knuckled, into the stiff fabric of his uniform, your face burying itself into the crook of his neck in an attempt to hide the tears streaming down your cheeks. You felt a hand in your hair and were wrenched back painfully, a strangled scream pouring out of your throat. after a second you composed yourself again, as much as could be expected, and found his hand on your jaw again, forcing your gaze directly into his own. He was crooning to you again, whispering how much he loved you and needed you and you wonder for a second if he did this with any of the other women. You imagine he did. 

You felt him pressing into you, slowly. He let out a shaky breath, whispering something incoherent about how wet you were. And you were. You didn't want to admit it but a part of you wanted this. A very small, distant, disturbed part of you.

Inch by inch, he filled you up, his moaning and the blue of his eyes encompassing your senses. He was bigger than you imagined, stretching you more and more as he continued to force himself into you. When he finally bottomed out, he allowed A few seconds to adjust, before he began to move again. You allowed your eyes to slip closed, Eddie being far too engrossed in his own movements to care, as you tried to remove yourself from the situation. To think about anything else, other than what was happening right now.

what was going to happen to you when he was done?

no. You didn't want to think about that.

whatever happened to those "medical professionals"? Were they still behind this window, just watching you?

no. You didn't want to think about that either.

what was that sound?

you.

it was you.

more specifically it was a series of faint but recognizable moans falling from your distracted lips. Your hands had drifted to his neck. You tried to "exit" the situation again but the building pressure in your lower stomach prevented you from doing so. You felt lips on your throat, and fingers circling your clit, your head spinning from the intense stimulation. You gasped out, his name falling,unwelcome, from your mouth. You feel your legs shake and your heart stop, faintly registering a strangled cry above you, and warm jets of liquid spilling inside of you and beginning to trickle down your thighs

he stood there, panting, his forehead resting against the glass behind you. He pulled back slightly, just enough to place another kiss on your parted lips. every inch of your skin was buzzing with adrenaline and dopamine and in your hazy, chemically driven state, you felt yourself kiss him back.

whatever "romantic" bliss you might have been feeling was cut short by the steel door you'd almost forgotten existed swinging open, slamming forcefully against the wall. Too surprised and exhausting to really react, Eddie was immediately put on the floor by several armed gaurds, two of them taking you by the arms and effortlessly dragging you out of the room. You could faintly hear him screaming for you as you exit. just outside of the room you recognize a familiar face.

"ahh, hello again. I trust your interview went well? I'm sure Gluskin was on his... Best behavior for you."

you grit your teeth, far too exhausted to struggle in any significant way.

"mm, I'm sure. Lucky woman, you are. And not just for that rather... Ahem, intense experience. Most of his sexual partners don't have the luxury of a rescue team." 

His grin melted instantly as he turned his attention to the two men beside you.

"give her a nice room to rest in. She could be useful for future experiments."


End file.
